


danganronpa v4: burn the killing stage

by persona_kath



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Despair, Gen, Hope, Long term illness, Mentions of Suicide, Someone dies, bad use of the present tense, danganronpa - Freeform, mentions of depression, random bold words, someone dies gruesomely, ultimate not super high school level
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 06:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persona_kath/pseuds/persona_kath
Summary: the killing game will start again.instead of sixteen new students, we bring in eight.AU was originally created by @/refrainbow on Twitter.





	danganronpa v4: burn the killing stage

**Author's Note:**

> there will be:  
> \- mentions of depression, suicide  
> \- gore will be prevalent  
> \- there will be slight spoilers for danganronpa 2 and v3, and will share some of the same themes.

**1: welcome to ultimate talent development!**

 

Cold. Cold, hard, barren floor. That’s the first thing I feel, oddly enough. I feel the splinters digging into my back, my hands resting on its grainy surface. But it’s dark. 

 

I’m registering the sensations of… someone. Someone… 

 

It’s me. I’m… me? From now on, I’m the main character. Right. I’m the main character of my story. This story. Whatever the hell I’m in. Actually… where am I?

 

I open my eyes. 

 

I’m… Jeon Jungkook. I’m the  **Ultimate Bowler** . I remember these two things first. I’m… sixteen years old. I applied for  **Ultimate Talent Development Academy** , an Academy dedicated for the  **cultivation** of Ultimate students. But that’s all I remember, strangely enough. 

 

I suddenly realize I’m on the floor. Right above me is a bright stage light, blaring down on me like a spotlight. I sit up, feeling my muscles protest. I must have been out for awhile. 

 

“Hello?” my voice rings out, tiny and afraid. No response. I expected as much. I scan the surroundings, seeing the… the floor I’m on really being a burnt stage. It’s strange— a stage in the middle of nowhere. There are curtains, clearly for some sort of show, but they’re eaten through and threadbare. 

 

If this is really  **Ultimate Development** … I’m worried about what the rest of the school looks like. I stand up. 

 

I’ll have to explore, won’t I? In the meantime, I can make a better introduction. 

 

I’m Jeon Jungkook,  **Ultimate Bowler** . I learned of my talent when I was born, and I love what I do. I’ve competed plenty of times and I’ve won plenty of rounds with strikes throughout the whole games. 

 

I applied for  **Ultimate Talent Development Academy** to sharpen my skills before I head out into the real world as an adult and win more games and such. 

 

However, all that aside. The school is… well, if I could even call it a school, is barren. It seems like someone hastily rebuilt it after something happened— after an  **explosion** of some sort.

 

The second after I think  **explosion** , a sharp pain jabs its way into my head. 

 

“Ow!” I clap a hand over my temple, but the pain dissipates as quickly as it came. It… it has to be nothing. The school, though…

 

Classrooms look like someone bulldozed them, the desks almost completely broken and the chairs are in no better shape, full of splinters. I almost wince at the prospect of even  _ sitting  _ in those for lectures. It really seems as if this place can’t get any worse. 

 

_ Okay! Enough of this! You need to find people!  _ I remind myself. Before I came to this school, I researched the people who signed on in the same year as me. I found several names, so at least that has to help. 

 

I’ve somehow ended up… in what I think is the entrance hall. A top with high walls and an arched ceiling with the words  _ burn the stage _ etched into it. And a large,  _ large _ steel door with some sort of lock.

 

With some trepidation, I push it open. 

 

The world outside is almost painfully ordinary in its appearance, with a bright blue sky dotted with clouds and greenery all around, except for the one thing. 

 

A large cage has been erected, separating the school from the outside world. But the cage appears to have broken somewhat— bars are crooked, caving in and caked with rust. From the outside, I could really see how terrible the school looked. 

 

Really, it did seem as if some  **explosion** had broken the school apart, and the path leading to the school was littered with chunks of rock and concrete. But thankfully, as I continue  walking around the wasteland of the school grounds, I see someone. 

 

A man in a white coat stands at the edge of a large lake in the school grounds’ park— his clothes all white save for the tiny peek of a black turtleneck underneath his white coat, and he holds an umbrella, despite there being absolutely no rain whatsoever.

 

Maybe it’s a bad idea to approach someone so suspicious, but I’m desperate. I decide to walk up to him, and with some hesitation, I tap him on the shoulder. 

 

He whirls around, startled, and almost trips on his feet. He manages to right himself and he stares at me, a surprised look on his face. 

 

“Oh, hello,” he says. “It’s a shock to see someone new. I was beginning to think I was the only one here.”

 

“I thought the same,” I say to him. “What’s your name?”

 

“Me? Oh, well. I’m Kim Namjoon, the  **Ultimate Philosopher.** Pleasure.” He holds out a hand to shake, and I stare. 

 

There’s an awkward pause before he moves to draw his hand back, clearly embarrassed, but I shake it. 

 

“I’m Jeon Jungkook.  **Ultimate Bowler** ,” I say. 

 

“Oh, Jeon Jungkook? I’ve heard of you before,” Namjoon says, a hint of his dimples showing. “I’m sure we will get along great.” 

 

I nod, smiling at him. 

 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

 

I remember researching Kim Namjoon— the  **Ultimate Philosopher** , who has written a best selling series about his thoughts; his books are enough to change people’s worldviews in just one day, and he even writes song lyrics. Most artists pay him handsome amounts of money just so he can write them a song, but Kim Namjoon seems to only pick a few people to write songs for. 

 

Many people say that when he speaks in a deliberate way, it’s like watching poetry in action. Despite this, Kim Namjoon is a mystery. He doesn’t broadcast his life or his fame; he just… exists. Even with his attire, I could see him blending into the crowd easily. 

 

The most any article has said about his lifestyle is that he has a home by the beach where he tends to crabs. I remember that tidbit because it struck out as odd to me. 

 

I shake my head to clear the thoughts as I walk further on school grounds to a greenhouse, where I’m relieved to see another face. 

 

He’s got a straw hat and a peek of bright, flaming red hair is visible underneath— his back’s turned to me, so I can’t see much. I made my way towards him, but the man seems so self absorbed in his work that he doesn’t seem to notice me— as I look down at his hands, I see a bright yellow sunflower being planted into a pot. 

 

“Oh!” he says suddenly, his voice being much deeper than anticipated, “You were watching me?”

 

“Gh!!” I step back, caught off guard. The boy studies me, his olive eyes full of mirth. 

 

“Well, I guess I better introduce myself. The name’s Kim Taehyung,  **Ultimate Farmer** . Nice to meetcha!” He smiles.

 

“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” I say.

 

“Well, gosh. That’s a nice name.” Taehyung turns to continue with his sunflower, but I interrupt.

 

“Why are you here doing that?” I ask, suddenly realizing how stupid it must sound. Taehyung takes it all in stride. 

 

“See, I’m plantin’ the sunflower because most of these don’t have pots yet. So I’m doing this place’s job… for whoever it was supposed to be delegated to. Yeah,” Taehyung says. “That.”

 

The  **Ultimate Farmer** has about as much of a story as you’d expect— Taehyung was born and raised on a farmstead, and worked diligently under the supervision of his parents. At some point, he developed a powerful fertilizer that greatly boosted the production of his family’s farm, leading them to becoming the most powerful farm in their side of the country.

 

From then on, Taehyung’s skills only grew as he put his soul into his work, and he only became more well known as time went by. He hosts workshops on how to make a farm generate more crop and how best to manage the business side of things as well. 

 

Despite all of the success, Taehyung still works by hand in his own farm, instead of never doing the work again like some might expect him to. In an interview, he said, “Well, it’s just so I don’t forget what it’s like.”

 

“This place looks so terrible for these guys, though,” Taehyung grumbles. “I don’t even know how they’ve survived! But they’re tough little guys. And so am I!” 

 

“Y-Yeah,” I say, suddenly intimidated by how cheery Taehyung is, backing out. 

 

_ It really does seem as if every Ultimate student is a little bit weird, doesn’t it… _

 

As I walk and reflect on my situation, I suddenly find myself in a basketball court; the sounds of a dribbling ball penetrate my ears as I walk closer.

 

A short boy paces, dribbling a basketball to and fro before he jumps, launching it into the air and it falls, swishing into the rope basket. The ball falls, and just as quickly, the boy rushes to catch up to it, running around dribbling it again. 

 

“Hey!” I call after him. The boy halts, picking up the basketball. 

 

“Who are you?” the boy rasps, turning around. He’s wearing a mask over his lower face, but his eyes— dark, and definitely not amused, are visible. “Hurry up and start talking.”

 

“I’m… Jeon Jungkook,  **Ultimate Bowler** ,” I say. The boy processes it, before he nods. 

 

“Oh, a sporty one. Fine, I guess. I’m Min Yoongi,  **Ultimate Baller** . If you make fun of my Ultimate, might as well kill you with this right here,” Yoongi says seriously. 

 

Right. The fiery  **Ultimate Baller** is a man painted with notoriety. Yoongi became known for his basketball skills when he was challenged by a famous member of a well known team— Yoongi managed to defeat him in a breeze, ending that famous member’s winning streak. It was a battle that went down in undeniable history. 

 

The other thing Yoongi is known for is without a doubt his fiery temper. He’s been known to lose it quite often, resulting in a battle of retorts and more than a few broken jaws usually caused by Yoongi himself.  **No one really knows** why he gets so angry, though many are quick to theorize. 

 

The few times I’ve read articles discussing Yoongi’s anger, they had a few  **choice** words in mind and it only raised more confusion. 

 

“There’s no way I’d make fun of your Ultimate,” I say to Yoongi, who huffs.

 

“As if. I’m practically a fucking laughingstock to most people,” Yoongi drawls. “Ultimate Baller, who’s actually heard of a talent like that? Anyways, kid, if you…” he coughs. Straightens his face. “If you see my sister,  **Yoonji** , please let her know I’m here.”

 

“Huh?” I ask, surprised. “Your sister? Why?”

 

“It’s because she’s really  **dangerous** when I’m not there to reel her in. Please do me a big favor,” he says, a bit of a begging note to his voice. “I’m counting on you.”

 

He runs off with his basketball without a further word. 

 

“Well, that’s odd,” I say, but there’s nothing I can do. I’ve been asked to complete the task, so I might as well. 

 

As I continue walking the school grounds, it occurs to me how big the school grounds are in comparison to the actual school building— or maybe it’s just because I haven’t explored it enough. The school grounds seem to really be  **equipped** with everything. 

 

That’s exactly what I think when I see an actual outdoor shooting range, paired with a race track some yards away from it. 

 

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell me where the  _ hell  _ my brother is!” I hear a sharp female voice pierce the air. 

 

“Lady, I’ve been telling you that I don’t know where your brother is!” A panicked male voice is quick to respond. “Please put that gun down! You don’t know what you’re doing with it!”

 

“Oh yes, I know what I’m doing with this gun— I’d hurry up and start talking!”

 

I have a feeling I know who these two are. As I walk towards the noise, I see a girl with short black hair dressed in a sharp schoolgirl uniform, pressing a pistol into the forehead of a boy dressed as a racer. 

 

Ah, so that’s what’s going on. 

 

“There’s no need to fight,” I say, trying to pierce the noise with a voice of reason. “Are you Yoonji?” I look to the girl. She huffs. 

 

“Damn right. I’m Min Yoonji,  **Ultimate Markswoman!** Remember that!” 

 

The equally fiery  **Ultimate Markswoman** is the sibling to the  **Ultimate Baller** , and has an equally notorious story. Once challenged to a game of  **Russian Roulette** at a young age, she changed the tables and fired on the men who kidnapped her, killing all of them. 

 

There are certain rumors that Yoonji has been used as a  **hitman** , killing corrupt high status individuals, though such rumors have never been denied or confirmed. The rumors seem to only have increased Yoonji’s fame. 

 

Yoonji seems to be a strange enigma, but the press does like talking about her brother and their close  **bond** . Which is nice, I suppose. 

 

“Nice to meet you, Yoonji,” I say. “Can you put the gun down? I know where your brother is.”

 

“You do?” Yoonji asks, suddenly less aggressive. “Where?”

 

“Um…” I gesture towards where I think the basketball court is. Yoonji nods, immediately running in that direction. “I guess that’s the end of that.”

 

“Oh, man,” the boy in the racing outfit says. “You saved my ass. Thanks so much.”

 

“Um, no problem. What’s your name?” I ask him curiously. 

 

“Oh, the name’s Jung Hoseok.  **Ultimate Racer** . I’d like to think I’m pretty chill, so I’m down to hang out if you want,” Hoseok says. 

 

The  **Ultimate Racer** has been around cars his whole life, and from young has played from toy cars up to the famous race cars. Even though  **he wasn’t allowed to drive** , at least, not  **legally** , he made a name for himself in racing. There is much debate about how he pulled it off, most of which ending in unsavory answers. 

 

Despite it all, Hoseok is well liked. He has a sunny personality that can make everyone smile and he naturally has a caring streak, or at least  **that’s what the media says** . Hoseok has been very careful not to divulge many secrets about himself. 

 

But despite all the controversy, Hoseok is still respected for his immense talent when it comes to racing. He has gone undefeated for many years, and his only injury was a  **broken leg** sustained when his car crashed into another one during a race, and somehow, Hoseok recovered in almost  **no time at all** . 

 

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jeon Jungkook,” I reply to Hoseok. 

 

“Oh, the  **Ultimate Bowler** , right? That’s cool. Sport with less risk,” Hoseok jokes. 

 

“Yeah, I guess,” I reply. “There any cars on this track?”

 

“Ehh,” Hoseok shrugs. “Haven’t found em. The garage that might allow me to get near ‘em is  **locked** .”

 

“Ah, I see. Anyways, I’m off. Hopefully I’ll see you later.” I wave and continue to walk. Even as I explore  **Ultimate Talent Development** , I’m more surprised by how the school has set up a place for all of us. Probably even me, if I’m curious enough to search. 

 

I see what appears together be the last set of students that signed on for this year— two of them are chatting at a large stage that seems to be set up for performances, but the proper kind.

 

It reminds me of where I  **woke up** . 

 

But there’s no point in wondering about the logistics of it, I suppose. I walk towards the last two new faces— they notice me before I even get the chance to say hello. 

 

“Well, hello there!” a boy calls as he swings his legs back and forth on the stage. “You’re a new face.” His blond hair and soft lips are probably his most prominent features. 

 

“Uh… I guess.” I nod nervously. The boy regards me. 

 

“Well, nice to meet you. I’m Park Jimin, the  **Ultimate Ballerina** . Or… or  **Ballerino** , if you want to be precise.” Jimin looks down at his clenched hands. 

 

The  **Ultimate Ballerino** began his journey when he was three years old, already a dancing pro. His parents enlisted the help of famous teachers to train him to reach higher heights, causing Jimin to become somewhat of a child prodigy, even though he loudly  **refuses** to be called such. 

 

Jimin often takes the lead role in many ballet pieces, and he’s always been at the center of attention. However, Jimin never boldly takes charge, nor does he revel in the glory of getting attention. He… just  **exists** . 

 

Second to Jimin’s skill as a Ballerino might be his own  **determination** — Jimin has been known for being notoriously hard on himself and even when he should relax, he is almost always practicing to refine his skills. 

 

It’s always about doing  **better** .

 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jimin. I’m Jeon Jungkook,” I reply. 

 

“Oh, that’s nice,” Jimin says absentmindedly. I turn to the other man dressed in a princely outfit and bearing a smug look on his face. 

 

“Who are you?” I ask.

 

“Well, peasant,” the man’s clearly joking, but it rubs me the wrong way, “I’m Kim Seokjin, the  **Ultimate Prince** ! It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, though many might say it’s the other way around.” 

 

The  **Ultimate Prince** is usually compared to the caliber of Sonia Nevermind, the  **Ultimate Princess** . The  **Ultimate Prince** got his name from an essentially massive financial empire that his parents rule over, and Seokjin has inherited much of their ruling charm. 

 

Seokjin is known for being incredibly  **charismatic** , and obviously  **handsome** . Most of his appeal can come from his looks, though no one will actually admit that. Seokjin is a charmer, and it’s clear that once he reaches adulthood, he’s bound to become the ruler of his parents’ company, and maybe move on to  **dominate** the world. 

 

Most of Seokjin’s life is less than private, always broadcasted and always talked about. It’s a miracle Seokjin hasn’t acted out or caused a scandal, which often leads to the theory that he’s  **paid** someone to keep quiet. He has the money, so he probably has the means to do so. 

 

“I… it’s… a pleasure,” is all I can muster. 

 

Seokjin laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Ah, loosen up, Jungkook. This may be one of the  **only** chances we have to be so carefree like this. School, you know.”

 

Something about that statement rubs me the wrong way, but I can’t put my finger on it. As I open my mouth to respond, I hear a faraway intercom ring to life. 

 

“Students! Welcome to  **Ultimate Talent Development Academy** . If you all would please gather in the  **auditorium** to listen to a  **special announcement** from our headmaster, that would be greatly appreciated!”

 

“The game’s starting,” I hear Seokjin say faintly. “It’s starting  **now** .”

  
  
  
****


End file.
